ously
restive.

'Step down and have a talk with me before you start. You're not to go
yet.'

'I must. I'm in a hurry.'

'What 's the hurry?'

'I want to smoke and think.'

'Takes a carriage on the top of the morning to smoke and think! Hark at
that!' Abrane sang out. 'Oh, come along quietly, you fellow, there's a
good fellow! It concerns us all, every man Jack; we're all bound up
in your fortunes. Fellow with luck like yours can't pretend to behave
independently. Out of reason!'

'Do you give me your word you return?' said Fleetwood.

Woodseer replied: 'Very well, I do; there, I give my word. Hang it!
now I know what they mean by "anything for a quiet life." Just a shake
brings us down on that cane-bottomed chair!'

'You return to-day?'

'To-day, yes, yes.'

Fleetwood signified the captive's release; and Abrane immediately
suggested:

'Pop old Chummy in beside the fellow to mount guard.'

Potts was hustled and precipitated into the carriage by the pair,
with whom he partook this last glimmer of their night's humorous
extravagances, for he was an easy creature. The carriage drove off.

'Keep him company!' they shouted.

'Escort him back!' said he, nodding.

He remarked to Woodseer: 'With your permission,' concerning the seat
he took, and that 'a draught of morning air would do him good.' Then he
laughed politely, exchanged wavy distant farewells with his comrades,
touched a breast-pocket for his case of cigars, pulled forth one,
obtained 'the loan of a light,' blew clouds and fell into the
anticipated composure, quite understanding the case and his office.

Both agreed as to the fine morning it was. Woodseer briefly assented to
his keeper's reiterated encomium on the morning, justified on oath. A
fine morning, indeed. 'Damned if I think I ever saw so fine a morning!'
Potts cried. He had no other subject of conversation with this
hybrid: and being equally disposed for hot discourse or for sleep, the
deprivation of the one and the other forced him to seek amusement in his
famous reading of character; which was profound among the biped equine,
jockeys, turfmen, sharpers, pugilists, demireps. He fronted Woodseer
with square shoulders and wide knees, an elbow on one, a fist on the
other, engaged in what he termed the 'prodding of his eel,' or 'nicking
of his man,' a method of getting straight at the riddle of the fellow by
the test of how long he could endure a flat mute stare and return look
for look u